Your Last Everything
by MWard92
Summary: It's been ages since I've written so bear with me as I dip my feet into the stream of fanfiction, again. This is a post-Mockingjay Everlark story. We'll see where it goes... "I want to be your last everything..." *Huge shout out to the wonderful Meadowlark27 for being my beta reader! :)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

I watch the way his hand moves the pencil across the page. Smooth yet strong, his hands possess a mesmerizing quality of their own. It's been a month since I saw him planting the bushes. When I first saw him, my heart nearly jumped out of my chest. So much has changed. Peeta and I have been through hell and back, together, and each in our own ways. We've lost nearly everything except for each other and growing back together has been a challenge to say the least. When I first started inviting him over for breakfast with Greasy Sae, he shifted back and forth on his feet, nervously. I couldn't expect him to know what he wanted. We both had changed so much. 'What if he didn't want to be my friend anymore?' I had told myself. 'He certainly couldn't love me the way he used to.'

"Katniss?" He glances at me, his mouth slightly turned up, as if to know I've gotten lost in my own world, again.

"Sorry, I was just thinking." I pause before I continue. We had promised to be honest with each other. Promised to share our feelings to help grow back together. "I was thinking about us. Our friendship."

I swallow slowly, watching as his eyes light up.

"I think about us a lot, too." He responds. And with that he continues to sketch.

I haven't seen his work, yet. I've simply been sitting here, allowing the warmth of the fire to engulf the room. It's a nice feeling. Fire doesn't scare me as much as it used to. It doesn't bring back the haunting thoughts as much. At least not when Peeta is with me. The nightmares continue to plague me, every night, however. I know they bother him, too. We hear each other scream at night and every morning, when we see each other again, we note the dark circles under our eyes. We don't dare to speak of them though.

I don't speak of my nightmares for fear of triggering something in him. I don't know if I could forgive myself if Peeta had yet another episode because of me. I'm to blame for too much already. It's my fault he's so broken.

And, that's when the tears begin to fall. I know I won't be able to keep the sobs to myself as my shoulders begin to shake. I can feel Peeta's eyes on me as he's stopped drawing. I clear my throat and walk to the bathroom. I can't let him see me like this. Why am I always the one to break down? My body hits the side of the wall and I slide down, my limbs feeling numb. I'm trembling and it's all I can do not to throw myself against the wall, willing this feeling of overwhelming sadness to end.

I hear the doorknob jiggle and know that Peeta has discovered I locked the door on him. I knew he would try to follow me as he's always the one to try and help put me back together. I just need a moment to myself, though.

As I hear his footsteps retreat to the living room, I take a few deep breaths, like Dr. Aurelius told me to do. Calming myself down, I stand up, shakily, bracing myself against the sink. The cool water feels good against my flushed cheeks and puffy eyes. Taking a moment, I view my reflection and I'm not sure what I see. Certainly not the mockingjay. I see a shell of a person. Someone who once had the will to fight but has been broken and torn every which way by a war even she didn't understand. And, it is in that moment that I remind myself that Peeta is just as broken, if not more so. I dry my face and brace myself for what I'm about to face as I walk out of the bathroom and back into the living room.

"I'm sorry about that." I barely whisper. I look up and see his soft eyes watching mine.

"It's okay, Katniss. I understand. Sometimes I just have to get up and have a minute to myself as well. I just wanted to make sure you were alright." His eyes don't falter and he continues to watch me, a glimmer of sadness hidden behind those blue eyes.

Slowly, my feet carry my body back over to the spot where I was sitting, next to him, but not close enough to view what he had been working on. My curiosity has gotten the best of me as I twirl my hair around my finger, trying not to steal glances his way. He's content as he continues to sketch his pictures and I'm listening to the fire crackling on.

It's then when I suddenly speak up, brave enough to share what was bothering me only minutes before.

"I'm sorry about everything, Peeta. This would have never happened if it weren't for me." And that's when it all comes pouring out. "The games, the lies, your hijacking and this now, it's all my fault. I'm so sorry for causing you pain and confusion and I just wish I could express myself in an easier way. I've never been good at this but I'm trying. I want to be better."

My eyes don't leave the ground and I continue to nervously play with my hair which is very unlike me. I can tell how anxious I am because everything in my core is screaming to run away, lock myself in my room and wait for whatever this is to dissipate.

It seems like forever when he lets out a deep breath. My eyes flit up in his direction and I see him smiling sadly. He slowly brings himself closer to me, pausing for just a fraction of a second, letting me set the pace as always. The next thing I know he's embracing me in a soft, yet incredibly strong hug. His body is filled with warmth and I can hear the gentle beat of his heart. We sit like this for a good minute and I can feel his chest rise and fall with each breath. It's as if he's trying to find the right words and I don't blame him.

"I don't blame you and I wish you would stop blaming yourself, Katniss. We all lost things in this war and that isn't because of you, but because of the horrible people that were power-hungry. Despite all of the awful things I've had to experience, at least I got to know you better and I'm thankful for that." He squeezes a little tighter as he says this last part, I'm sure to try and reassure me of our friendship.

"Thank you." I manage to squeak out my meager appreciation for his kind words but I know he understands that this is all I can say right now. It may be difficult, but I promise myself, silently, that I will try my best to forgive myself and believe Peeta, because even after all of this time, he has yet to betray my trust.

Before I know it, my stomach lets out a low grumble and Peeta removes himself from my grasp as I stare up at him with a lopsided grin. "I guess I didn't realize how late it was getting. I must be hungry." I chew on my bottom lip contemplating whether or not to ask him to stay, because so far, he's only been around for breakfast. Before I know it, the words escape my mouth and I'm kind of glad they do as I know my brain is still having trouble processing certain thoughts. "Would you like to stay and eat?"

The comforting smile he gives me is reassurance enough that I have done something to bring him a small bit of joy. He pushes himself off of the couch, extending a hand out to me and we head toward the kitchen together.

Since Peeta and I have been spending more time together, Greasy Sae has stopped by less and less to check in on me. She still brings the occasional items from the new market, in town, as she knows going there is something I cannot manage at this time. However, I have been managing to feed myself quite well, even if my cooking is less than stellar compared to Sae's culinary skills. As I begin to pull out plates, to set the table, Peeta is searching the pantry and looks at me with a devious gleam in his eye.

"How about some cheese buns?" He asks even though he already knows the answer.

As he busies himself to prepare my favorite of his items, I glance in the refrigerator to find something to throw together. There's some chicken left over that Sae had brought by and I decide that grilling this up and adding some spices together will do nicely. Along with this, I pull out a few vegetables and the other necessary items that Peeta requires.

We cook and bake in silence as is quite normal for us. Sometimes, no words are needed, and things are comfortable as they used to be. We listen to the wind outside and the shuffling of our feet brings us peace because we both know that neither of us is spending this evening alone. We have each other's company and that is enough for now.

Because of the smell of meat and noise in the kitchen, Buttercup comes slinking down the stairs, eyes still half closed, no doubt from his late evening nap. I swear all that cat does is sleep, but after Prim died and he returned to find me, we've grown to have a tolerant understanding of each other. He is there sleeping at the foot of my bed at night and I throw him the occasional piece of food, knowing all too well that he's growing on me. He approaches my feet and begins purring softly as he rubs himself along my legs.

"Looks like Buttercup is playing friendly for a bit of food, eh?" Peeta looks at me and grabs a chunk of chicken off the counter to toss it in the cat's direction. Buttercup hungrily chews his prize and then takes a seat on the chair in the living room, facing us as we continue to work.

Within a few minutes, we've prepared a nice, warm dinner and I'm smiling more than I have in a long time. We take our time eating, savoring each bite of our food. Peeta and I still understand what life used to be like and I think neither of us intends on not appreciating the abundance of food we have compared to what we used to get.

I'm still very thin but my body is gaining back its curves and each morning as I look into the mirror, I see a change in my appearance. Peeta appears much stronger as well. He's gained back some of his muscle and he doesn't look as shattered as he did when I first saw him after the hijacking. I know he still gets episodes. Dr. Aurelius even told me this. But, he convinced me that Peeta has been given plenty of coping mechanisms and emergency medicine to help reduce the effects of an oncoming episode.

I clear my throat softly and Peeta's eyes move up to my level. "When we're done with dinner, do you mind if I see what you were sketching earlier?" I pause, worried about continuing. His expression is unreadable. "It's just, you looked very concentrated and I'd love to see what you drew. My mind was kind of preoccupied earlier."

His hand reaches out, across the table, and gently grazes mine.

"Sure." It's the only word he utters as he retreats his hand and casts his eyes back onto his plate.

Peeta has always been a kind soul and very trusting. He opens himself up to those he cares about and it's one of the qualities I adore about him. Not only because it is a quality I am highly lacking, but because part of me hopes that perhaps I can learn how to do this as well, at least for him, if for no one else.

After clearing the table and washing and drying the dishes, we return to our spots on the couch. It's begun to rain outside and the sound is soothing. Peeta grabs his sketch book and sits down beside me and his proximity causes my heart to beat faster. He flips to the page he has bookmarked and my eyes widen in surprise.

There I am, primrose flower in hand. My expression is one of concentration and joy. He has drawn me with my hair down, gently flowing over my shoulders and laying on the swell of my breasts. It is a simple yet eloquent drawing that is filled with symbolism and beauty.

I gently reach out to touch the paper, my hand trembling ever so slightly. A silent tear makes its way down my cheek and Peeta's thumb catches it before it has a chance to land on the piece of paper in front of me.

"It's beautiful." These are the only words I can muster. My voice seems to have escaped me, leaving me with nothing but my expression to allow Peeta to see the impact his sketch has made.

"I just…I know how much you miss her." He stammers. He seems unsure about continuing, but after he clears his throat he does. "I miss her, too. Sometimes my mind just picks something and I go with it. Drawing whatever comes into my head helps me express what I'm feeling. Once I have the picture, I can usually tell if it's real or not. And, if I don't, then at least I know I can ask you."

That is when I tell him about my idea for the book. He listens with great care as I share my thoughts and passionate need to take action and help create a tangible way to remember all the loved ones we've lost. When I'm finished sharing my thoughts his face breaks out into a big smile. I can tell he's proud of me for sharing more. He knows this isn't easy for me and I'm thankful he seems receptive to my idea. We decide to give Dr. Aurelius a call in the morning to have him ship some more items via the train so that we can begin our work as soon as possible. Neither of us intends on losing any precious memories of those that lost their lives the last few years.

It's beginning to get darker outside and with the rain continuously pouring down I feel my eyes getting heavy. Sleep is calling but I know that the nightmares will persist and I don't desire to lay down anytime soon. I know Peeta is starting to get restless and he's likely considering heading back to his house. It's then when I take the chance and ask him.

"Do you want to stay here for the night? I mean, it is raining and we both sleep better with each other around." My hands feel clammy and my throat is dry. This is a risk I didn't think my mind would cause me to take so soon, but I guess my mouth had other ideas. Despite my sudden apprehension of my offer, as I look back at him he just nods shortly and closes his sketchbook.

I slowly remove myself from the couch and neatly fold the blanket I've been using. As we head upstairs I notice I'm smiling to myself and there's an air of calmness about me. It's as if I suddenly feel much safer and there is hope that I will get some sleep tonight.

"Do you need to shower?" I ask him as I'm rummaging through my dresser for a fresh top and pair of pants.

"I showered before I came over earlier so I'm alright. Thanks." He replies.

"Alright, well, I'm going to take a quick shower and I'll be back shortly." With that I head into the bathroom leaving him to get comfortable and allowing myself a moment to breathe.

My hands take time undressing myself and I view myself in the mirror. Scars line my body like rivers running through a forest. It isn't just my inside that is broken and bruised but the surface as well. My body is a canvas painted with stories of loss, suffering and pain.

As I step under the water, I shudder and adjust the temperature. The liquid runs across my curves and I close my eyes to let the tears flow. This is something I've learned to do. When I am by myself and rinsing off all the horrid memories, I weep with the water and let my mind wander. This event is cathartic for me and I embrace its healing power. My goal is to remove all the worry and stress from the day because when I crawl into that bed in a few moments, I want nothing but to just enjoy the feeling of Peeta's warm arms around me and forget the world for a while.

So, as I finish my shower and gently dry the still sore pieces of myself, I pull the tank top and pajama pants on and silently enter the bedroom. Peeta is already relaxing in bed, his eyes still open as he watches the moonlight dance across the sheets. He is in deep thought but as the bed shifts, he shakes himself from the grasp of his mind and looks at me with that genuine smile of his and I nuzzle against his chest. The strength of his arms around my small frame feels just as it did a year ago.

Tonight is the first night I am actually looking forward to closing my eyes and waiting for sleep to take me. There is no guarantee that the nightmares will keep to themselves, but I have Peeta here and as long as we have each other, we will get through the days.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

I'm sitting in my meadow, surrounded by dandelions and the sound of birds singing sweetly. The sun's rays lay their warmth across my face, gently, and I can feel the rise and fall of his chest as I'm resting my back against him. He's stroking my hair and peppers kisses along my bare shoulder which make me shudder with a feeling of desire and absolute bliss. There is nothing in this world that I would trade for this moment in time.

This feeling is so surreal and although I know this is a dream, I'm taking in every moment as if it was true. It's been so long since I've dreamt of something that doesn't make my blood run cold and my heart nearly burst out of my chest. To feel this serene is a gift I did not think I would ever be granted again and so I allow myself to breathe deeply, feel the soft caress of his lips and enjoy the dream gracing my mind.

The sun streams into the room as my eyes flutter open and I can feel the fresh spring air grazing across the back of my neck. Peeta always did love to sleep with the windows open. It's then that I smile and recall the dream that danced behind my eyelids just a bit ago and I sigh loudly enough that Peeta stirs next to me.

"Good morning." He grins at me. "No nightmares last night?" I shake my head. This feels right because it's Peeta and I don't think I'd rather be with anyone else in the world.

"Do you want to call Dr. Aurelius and ask him to ship us the items for the memory book?" I'm surprised that I am so forward about this because ever since returning I've practically avoided my doctor and the treatment because nothing seemed to be going right. But, today, with Peeta by my side, I feel a little braver and a bit more excited at the prospect of having found this form of healing.

"How about I make us some breakfast and then we can give him a call?" Peeta asks me.

We make our way downstairs to be greeted by Buttercup who opted to stay in the living room last night. He probably thought that he could give me a break seeing as I had Peeta's company and wasn't alone to deal with my subconscious. Together, we decide that fresh eggs are a good choice and we fry up some bacon along with them. I grab some toast, butter it for us and once we've readied the table, we enjoy a meal together as we listen to the birds chirp outside.

Shortly after, we've cleaned up the kitchen and dining table and are in the study, ready to call Dr. Aurelius. My hands tremble as it's been a while since I've spoken with him and I'm petrified. I'm not really sure why but the simple act of picking up the phone and dialing his number has my mind in hysteria. _What if he's upset at my lack of communication? Will he want to speak about really stressful things at this point? Is my treatment still being accepted by the court?_ Normally, I wouldn't be this apprehensive about his opinion, but after spending last night in Peeta's arms, I don't want to lose that feeling and all of a sudden, all the terrible thoughts flood into my mind and come crashing down like a tidal wave.

I notice I've been standing there, motionless, for a good five minutes, staring at the wall that holds the phone. Peeta has started stroking my arm and his voice snaps me out of the trance I was caught in. "Katniss, are you alright to call?" His voice has a tinge of concern but something else I can't quite make out. He's always been one to protect me and allow me to take things at my own pace. It's one of the things I love about him. _Shit. Did I say that out loud or in my head?_ I must have spoken it only to myself because Peeta hasn't said anything to me.

"I'm not okay. I'm scared. What if he's upset with me? I haven't kept in touch with him and I know that's all my fault, but I just don't…I feel so lost and I don't know how to…I just don't know, Peeta…" I'm stumbling over my words and it feels like I'm short of breath. The next thing I know, I can feel my legs giving out and I'm seeing the darkness engulf me as two strong arms keep me from tumbling onto the floor.

As I begin to stir, my eyes blink heavily and I can feel the unpleasant taste bubbling in my stomach and making its way upward and out. Before I can think, I'm flinging the bed sheets off of myself in an attempt to stagger toward the direction of the bathroom and begin to vomit what few contents of my stomach. It feels like forever that I'm sitting there dry heaving because I must not have anything left in me, but it's only now that I feel the soft yet resilient hand against my back, slowly rubbing in circles to help soothe me.

I immediately know it's him. Even without turning around, I can feel his cool blue irises digging into my back. The comforting touch leaves my back for a moment and I hear the water running as he dampens a washcloth and brings it to my hand. I allow myself to clean up, but am too afraid and ashamed to turn around and give him the time of day. _Damn it. _I think to myself. _Why am I such a screw up? _

I taste a wet, salty substance gliding against my lips and am aware that I'm softly crying. I feel for Peeta. I really do. All he does is take care of me and I never return the favor. All I can do is sob about how miserable I am and think about everything that I'm doing wrong. This boy, this man, would truly be better off without me. I've done him so much wrong and yet here he is, consoling me in the bathroom over God knows what.

"What happened?" The words are out of my mouth and I don't even recognize my own voice.

He clears his throat and picks his words wisely, knowing that, especially in this moment, I am beyond fragile and could break as easily as a porcelain doll. "You passed out before we were able to call Dr. Aurelius. I brought you up to your bedroom and you've been asleep most of the day."

Despite my confusing outburst and this aftermath of my sickness and inability to utter but two words, he's not pressing for any answers. He knows that I will share what I can when I feel ready and that there is nothing he can do to convince me otherwise. He knows me like he knows the back of his hand, even after he was stripped bare of his own memories. The only thing left was an angry, hollow shell, shattered and left to pick up his own pieces and put a new life together.

I prop myself up against the bathtub, gently prying my hands away from the toilet. I must look like absolute hell, but if I do, Peeta doesn't show any desire to part ways with me. He's clearly concerned about what happened and I'm trying to form the words to explain. However, I was never the one whose words flowed like a waterfall and my emotions are bottled up, locked away somewhere, hidden from the world and even I can't quite remember where I put the key.

"I just…" I stumble trying to figure out what I want to say. He deserves an explanation or at least some sort of an apology. He is, after all, still one of my only friends and my best. I care for him too much to leave him in the dark and so I push myself to explain what happened. "I guess I just felt incredibly overwhelmed and worried. I want to try getting better, Peeta, I really do. It's just so difficult to take even these small steps and you're so brave and I just keep holding us back from healing."

There is silence for a few moments before I hear him suck in a breath of air as he turns to me. "Katniss, I don't think you understand that I'm really not all that brave. This is scary for me, too and while I can't say I feel exactly as you do, I understand why your body reacted in the way it did. Sometimes we aren't prepared for things and we have to take a break, rethink and go back to it later. I know it's something I like to do with my paintings. Art, beauty, growth, change, it all takes time. But, I'm right here for you and we will manage to figure this out together."

It's all I can do but to slightly smile and take his hand in mine. It's more a gesture of friendship, understanding and comfort but I feel my breath hitch and my heart beat a little faster. His hand feels warm, tender and light to the touch. Despite his strength and ability to mold dough into any creation, I feel that my hands are encased in silk when they touch his. There's nothing quite as calming as the touch of another human being, especially one that you genuinely care for. "Thank you for being here, Peeta." I mumble, shyly. "I think I need a shower and maybe then we can try calling again."

He nods, shortly, and as soon has his fingers disentangle from mine, I feel empty and lost. It's as if the one thing that was anchoring me to this earth has been swept away. But, I promise myself that our separation will be brief. So, as he closes the bathroom door behind me and I hear him thud downstairs, I slip into the shower and allow the water to envelope me in ribbons of heat. I will be okay. Peeta is here and I can do this. It may take me a few measly attempts, but one step at a time is all I can do for now.

As I make my way downstairs, Buttercup not far behind, I can smell lamb stew cooking from the kitchen. Always thinking of what I may need, Peeta is one step ahead of me as I hear my stomach rumbling in a deep tone. Since I emptied every last content of my stomach into the toilet not too long ago, I can tell I need to have something to keep my body from getting weak. The last thing I need is to pass out again.

I slide into a seat at the kitchen table, seeing that Peeta has already carefully laid out everything we will need to eat. He shoots a glance back at me and poses his questions. "Feel any better?"

I quietly answer with a resounding "Uh-huh."

He serves us each a bowl and lays out some slices of fresh baked bread. He must have been quite occupied while I was upstairs recovering from my panic attack. We don't say much as we eat, but I know it's mostly because I have absolutely nothing in me at the moment.

After we finish our meal, Peeta cleans up for me, and I honestly don't mind letting him. I know he can see how drained I am from the day's events and I know it brings him joy to help me out, no matter how small his act of kindness is. I decide to slink over to the living room and bury myself in the corner of the couch, blanket laid over me. I'm not cold, per se, but I feel the need to keep myself bundled up and protected. When Peeta isn't there to hold me, it feels strange, hollow and far too open.

He pokes his head in to the living room as my gaze is distracted and I'm lost in my thoughts. "I'm going to give Dr. Aurelius a quick call and ask him to send us those supplies. Are you alright if I tell him about what happened today? You don't have to talk to him, and I'm happy to explain. I just know you're kind of tired right now and I don't mind doing it." His smile is genuine, filled such sweetness it makes my heart ache for him. How could I ever let him become so broken? All he's ever done is help me and even when adversity is staring him in the face, he's still happy to take the brunt of it all to make me feel at ease.

"Sure. Thank you, Peeta. I really…um, I appreciate it." I'm lost for any other words. I wish I could extend my gratitude in a more elaborate way, but at this point, the only thing that comes to my mind is kissing him. _Crap! Did I really just think about putting my lips on his? _My mind must have really gone for a joy ride earlier because my thoughts just aren't sitting straight today. And, yet, while he's gone to the study to make the phone call I was too chicken to make, and I hear his soft mumbles drifting to the front of the house, I miss his touch, his presence, his eyes watching mine.

Buttercup joins me on the couch and I find myself enjoying his company while Peeta is gone. It seems like time has crept by but when Peeta finally comes back into the living room, I glance up at the clock and find that 15 minutes have gone by.

"Dr. Aurelius said he'd have the supplies on the next train over." Peeta pauses. I look at him in anticipation, edging him on to continue because he said he would talk to him about what happened earlier. "He mentioned that he's not upset with you at all. He's just been really concerned and hopes you'll give him a call soon." His eyes twinkle has the corners of his mouth turn upward. I know he understands what a relief this news is to me. And, there it is again. Pang! That feeling in my chest. It's as if the whole world melts away when Peeta smiles. He's always been the unpretentious, sweet, honest and easily approachable one and it warms me to see that smile on his face again.

"I'll do my best to contact him soon." I reply, trying to sound courageous. God knows I'm definitely not convincing him because Peeta crosses the room to join me on the couch. He opens his arms and this simple gesture is enough to brighten my entire day. There's something so cathartic about sitting with Peeta, being encased in his embrace, taking in that wonderful smell of his. He is so wholly Peeta and I adore him for letting me enjoy this moment, no matter how irrelevant it may seem in the grand scheme of things.

We sit quietly for a good hour, our breaths matching, the rise and fall of his chest in sync with mine. The silence is peaceful and I'm reminded that no matter what we've been through, both of us will always have a deeper understanding of the other. There isn't always a need for grandiose dialogue when we are in the same room. But, I do feel that as a hostess, I should be keeping Peeta engaged adequately and that's when the idea strikes me.

"Would you like to play a game?" My voice breaks the silence and Peeta gently shifts beside me. I'm not even sure what else he likes to do in his spare time aside from baking and painting, but I guess a suggestion like this is worth a shot. Besides, games are fun and they allow for a lightheartedness that we are in dire need of, this evening. Before I speak, there's a sharp pain as I'm reminded about who I played this game with last. Prim. She was always one for playing games in the evening. It was a way to pass the time, easy because most of our games required little to no materials and our imaginations were able to run wild, putting our minds at ease from the hunger residing in our bellies.

Peeta shrugs and looks at me, a question lingering on his lips. "What's the game entail?"

"It's not complicated, really. We each have a piece of paper and each round consists of drawing a section of the body. Between each section, we fold the paper over, so the other person can't see the section we just drew. Every round, we continue to add to the drawing. First the head, then the torso, then legs and then feet. Once we finish, we have to unfold the paper and look at the funny creations we drew together." I grin, feeling pleased that I'm able to share this bit of my childhood with my friend. It's a part of me he really hasn't seen before and I feel like opening up, one piece at a time will definitely be a great process in healing ourselves and continuing this friendship.

"Sounds easy enough. Can I use different colors and get creative with it?"

I can tell he's going to have a good time with this. I, on the other hand, can't draw to save my life. Hunting is where I soar and excel. Artistically, I am not gifted and I'd likely be shot on sight if the Hunger Games had involved any form of art work. It will be fun, though, I convince myself. Besides, we need a little laughter.

Before we realize it, we've hit 10 o'clock and we've been giggling over our silly creations for a good while. My cheeks are sore from grinning like a goofy girl and Peeta continuously grabs his side because it must hurt with all the laughing he's guilty of. I can't recall the last time I smiled this much and being able to share this memory with Peeta, even if it's making me ache for my sister, is something that has touched my heart, tonight.

"Okay, I think I'm all drawn out. Peeta, you're too artistically gifted and my pathetic stick figures have nothing on your almost life-like sketches." I'm smirking as I say this and he knows this is all too true. However, being the gentleman he is, he plucks one of the drawings off of the table and all of a sudden I see a hint of mischievousness in his eyes. He replies, "This one we can hang on the refrigerator. It's a true masterpiece and we should save it."

"Peeta, no! That is not going on my fridge!" My cheeks flush and as he stands up he darts away, and I try to snatch the paper out of his hand. He dashes over to the fridge and hangs it with pride. I'm about to leap for it and tear it off to crumble it up but the next thing I know, two big hands are lifting me off the ground, as if gravity didn't even exist.

He's roaring with laughter at this point as I'm squirming in his arms, feet dangling just above the floor. "If I let you down, are you going to promise to keep our artwork displayed?" I can't see his face but I can hear the smile in his voice and I concede. "Fine, but can we also add one of your beautiful sketches, please? At least it won't look like we have a three year old living in our house." I stop, as I instantly realize what I've said and how it came out and Peeta sets me down in an instant.

I whirl around, eyes looking like a deer caught in headlights. "Sorry, I didn't..uh, you know what I meant." I try to cover up my stupid choice of words and curse myself silently. Before I know it, I'm tasting blood and realize I've bitten down on my bottom lip I'm so dumbfounded by this moment. And, of course, not a few seconds later, there is Peeta, holding a paper towel to my lip murmuring something about being really out of it. But, I'm not even paying any attention to his words as I'm lost in that gaze of his, his eyes tentatively searching mine for a response.

He's now clearing his throat and I'm snapped back to reality. "Sorry, I…uh." I'm stumbling over my words again. _Dammit, Katniss. Get it together. _"Yeah, you said that already." He chuckles, removes himself from next to me and throws the wadded up paper towel in the trash. I graze my fingers across my lower lip, feeling the sensitive part where I drew blood, but I'm no longer bleeding. It must not have been too deep.

"Ready to head to bed?" He asks as he looks back in my direction.

"Yeah." I reply and turn off the kitchen light, leaving Buttercup's glowing eyes to illuminate in the darkness.

We head upstairs, feet heavy with exhaustion. Neither of us bothers to switch into a pair of pajamas though I excuse myself to quickly head to the bathroom and remove my bra. I splash some cool water over my face and climb in to bed next to him. Snuggling up against his warmth, I close my eyes and quickly drift off.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The nightmares return with full wrath. Darkness consumes me as I can do nothing but watch as President Snow stands there, stabbing Prim over and over again. I'm being held back by creatures with hollow sockets for eyes and voices dripping of death. I can smell the sharp metallic blood spilling from Prim as she begs for my help. My tears burn at my eyes and my voice is raw from screaming and my body feels like it is being weighed down by boulders. Snow is watching me, cackling as he continues to stab my sister, twisting the knife, her pure blood splattered on his white suit. His eyes gleam with revenge and malicious intent and it's all I can do not to collapse and sob. I am still fighting, trying, hoping I can save her. And within moments, her body is limp, the life gone from it and I know there's nothing I can do to have her returned to me.

I'm thrashing, frantic, wide eyed and dripping in sweat. I am semi-aware of Peeta beside me, but I am still so wrapped up in the hell I just woke from that I can barely catch my own breath. Blood rushes through me and my heart is pumping at a furious pace. My limbs are convulsing and I feel his arms around me, desperate to still my quivering body.

All I'm aware of is Peeta stroking my back, whispering reassurances and trying to soothe my trembling body. The darkness of the room is overwhelming without the moonlight shining in through the window. He reaches over to the bedside table to switch on the small lamp. I'm guessing he does this in hopes to chase away the black monsters associated with my nightmares and bring me to awareness.

After a good fifteen minutes of continued but quieting sobs, Peeta finally peels back to look me in the face. "Do you need me to get you some water?" He asks this and I gently shake my head. I couldn't even consider letting him leave my side right now. I tighten my grip on him, fingers digging into his back as I lean my head against his chest to feel the rhythmic beating of his heart.

"You were dreaming about her." It's more a statement than anything else and I tense at his knowing. He is the only person who could probably understand just how much losing her broke my spirit. She was the one thing I lived for, fought for and why I continued on. After she was gone, there wasn't much of a will to live. The only thing that somewhat jolted me back to some form of reality was Peeta's return. Even then, our growth has been slow and calculated. He's letting everything happen at my pace and it is something so genuine that I treasure, although I have not mentioned this to him.

I begin to trace slow patterns against his chest and I feel his breathing pick up, slightly. The action is soothing and it gives me something to focus on, just has he is still rubbing my back. It's then that I realize that I will never truly be alone. Despite the loss we have both faced, Peeta and I are here, together, and comfort is near. Sleep will not come for the rest of the night and though we both know this, we lay back down and simply watch as we trace each other in patterns. That thought of a simple human action, such as touch, is back in my mind and I lay there letting my mind focus on the tangible aspects of life.

By the time morning arrives, both of our eyelids are heavy with exhaustion but we understand the need to rise and get on with the day. Peeta agrees to head down stairs to begin baking and I excuse myself to shower.

It doesn't take me long to ready myself as I have never been one to take ages in the bathroom. Before I was a victor, life didn't come with such luxuries and knowing I would go hunting didn't really require me to care much about my appearance. And, even now, as I have been given the opportunity to use the lavish features in my victor home, I care to focus on busying myself with more useful tasks. I was never much of a girl anyway.

That's when I hear the crash from down in the kitchen. My heart skips a beat and my eyes widen in fear as I sprint out of the bedroom and hurry down the stairs in only a towel. I find Peeta curled up in the living room in front of the couch, a pillow balled in his fingers as he rocks back and forth. It's immediately clear that he's having an episode and a bad one at that. His eyes are clenched shut and I can see tears streaming out of their corners. He's gasping in frustration and I watch his fingers clench and unclench around the pillow in a pattern that he seems to be using to try and ground himself.

I begin to panic and the bile rises in my throat. _What am I supposed to do? How do I help him come back to reality? Do I give him his space or try to comfort him? _And that's when my mind instantly disconnects from my body and before I know it, I'm singing The Valley Song. Sure, it may not work, but it's the first song I'm thinking he can make a firm connection with and the words flow out of my mouth so easily. I don't dare move my feet or approach him but my voice is steady and clear. There is no way to know if this will bring him out of this catatonic state but I continue to sing despite that possibility and slowly but surely I watch him begin to cease his rocking motions. His body stills and his strong hands release the pillow from its grasp.

"Peeta?" My voice wavers a bit now that I am speaking instead of singing and I watch him lift his tear streaked face to look at mine.

"Katniss, did I hurt you? Are you okay?" He's frantic and confused. I know very little about his episodes and my best guess, considering his questions, are that he has no idea what is happening when he's having an episode. It must be very similar to a seizure in that he's completely unaware of his surroundings. My heart breaks at my attempt to understand how dissociated and lost he must feel.

He's still watching me, a look of shock on his face, when I finally manage to reply. "No, I'm alright. I heard you upstairs and came down. I started singing and you slowly came out of it." It's then that I realize that all I have wrapped around my torso is a thin towel and my hair is still dripping wet and tangled. I can feel my cheeks heating up quickly and clear my throat. "Are you okay if I run upstairs to change into something more, umm, appropriate? I'll be right back. I promise." He nods, shortly and I rush back to the bedroom. I throw on whatever is closest and clean and brush my hair in a hurry. At this point, my top priority is to return to Peeta and make sure that he's going to be alright.

As I make my way back down the stairs, I hear the front door open and close as Haymitch enters. He appears more sober than most mornings and that is a feat in itself considering he's nearly always wasted by 10.

"Hey, Sweetheart. Heard some commotion coming from over here and figured I'd check in on you two. Did he have an episode?" He shrugs, glancing in Peeta's direction. He's sitting on the couch now, but it's obvious how disoriented he is, his hair flying in all directions and face still stained with tear streaks. Haymitch makes his way over to the couch and sits down next to Peeta, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You alright?" It's all Peeta can do to nod, the only form of communication he's used with me aside from questioning if I was hurt or not.

"Let me make some tea." I say and head toward the kitchen. It's probably best for Haymitch to help Peeta in this moment. As much as my heart aches to be by his side and wrap him in my arms, I know that Peeta is still struggling with a lot. The last thing I want to do is push him over the edge. Aside from that, being in the kitchen allows me to calm myself and collect my thoughts.

While I'm working to get the tea ready, Buttercup joins me, purring against my leg. He's likely expecting something delectable for breakfast, especially since Peeta and I have been cooking a lot, so I grab a slice of lunchmeat from the fridge and toss it his direction. Occupied with his treat, I return my attention to the tray with the cups and begin to fill them with the steaming liquid. My hands shake as I try to steady myself but it's obvious that I'm still distressed about the scene I witnessed just moments ago. Haymitch enters and can see I'm shaken so he grabs the tray and sets it down for a moment.

Before I even know what's happening, he's embracing me in a big hug and for once, I don't pull away from the stench of liquor and sweat. I know he's trying to help me and I realize I'm clinging to him, taking comfort in the fact that he's here to help us get through this. "Calm down and take a few breaths, alright? You're going to be just fine." With this, I let out a breath I didn't even notice I was holding in and I detach myself from my former mentor. Collecting myself, I allow Haymitch to take the lead into the living room with me following close behind.

Peeta looks like he was run over by a train and he only glances up at us for a moment before going back to playing with the string of pajama pants, nervously. I can tell how stressed out he is so I make it a point to hand him his cup with a smile and take a seat next to him. I want him to know that I'm not afraid of him and that, although I don't understand his predicament, I'll be here to see him through it and support him in any way that I can. Now, if only I was good with words, I could actually voice my desire instead of simply thinking it. I make a mental note to jot down my thoughts on some paper later. Eventually, I want to muster up the courage to tell him how much he means to me. I never have and it's the least I could do. I owe him my friendship. Not my silence.

"Do you want to talk about what triggered your episode, Peeta?" I ask, genuine care in my voice, as I reach my hand out to cover his. I can see him flinch slightly, likely because he's still on edge, but he doesn't pull away. Instead he places his other hand on mine and takes a deep breath.

"I don't really know what it was. Maybe the fact that we didn't get a lot of sleep on top of my worry because of your nightmare. My guess is as good as yours. I just remember coming down here and feeling really dizzy. My head started pounding and I grabbed the nearest thing I could to try and distract myself from the pain." His lower lip quivers and his body is starting to shake. My stomach is in knots for him because all I can do is support him and try to help him cope with these flashbacks. Haymitch's brow is furrowed but I can't quite place an emotion with him. His eyes aren't very telling either and since he hasn't spoken, I have no way to tell what he's thinking.

"Do you think we should call Dr. Aurelius and ask him what he thinks? I know I said I would call him, anyway, and I guess this would be a good time for him to check in with both of us." I surprise myself considering the events of the previous day, but I want to be brave for Peeta and help him in any way possible. If that means pushing through my own fears and calling the doctor to speak about the demons hiding in the abyss of my mind then so be it.

"Sure. That sounds like a good idea. Do you think we can go for a walk, first? I need to get outside and clear my mind."

Haymitch takes that as his cue and without so much as a word on what Peeta has said, he gathers himself and his flask and heads out the door muttering something about 'dysfunctional children'.

"I can put the dishes away while you get ready, upstairs." I say and I grab what's left on the coffee table and head back into the kitchen. I hear the typical offbeat footfall as he makes his way up the stairs and the water begins to run. While I busy myself around the kitchen, my senses stay on high alert in case Peeta has another episode and I have to rush to help him.

I don't hear anything alarming, though, and when he has returned downstairs, I've wrapped up a few slices of bread and cheese to take on our walk since we didn't have any breakfast. His face looks much brighter though he still has a haunted look behind his eyes and I know he's apprehensive about the whole situation. Peeta has always been the gentlest soul and I assume that part of his worry is that he fears hurting me like he's done in the past. But, then, how many times have I hurt him? More ways than I can count. I push away the thought of a meltdown because that's the last thing he needs from me, at this point.

"I put together some bread and cheese in case you're hungry." With that, he smiles and replies, "Thanks. Why don't we sit outside and then we can take that walk?" I nod and follow him out the door.

It doesn't take us long to polish off the few slices of bread and cheese and we are on our way. I let Peeta lead the way as this was his request and time to clear his mind. I don't speak up because I want him to feel like he can say what he needs to with time. We walk in comfortable silence for a few moments and then he pauses to survey the surroundings. I give him a quizzical look because Peeta is usually one for words so when he grabs my hand and gently grazes his thumb across the back of it, my legs feel like they'll give out and I release a shaky breath.

He closes the distance between us but pauses an inch before me. His breath is sweet and there's an addictive quality to it. He's waiting for permission to continue and I nod ever so slightly and part my lips. When his flesh connects with my own it sends a spark flying through me. My eyes close and I revel in his soft and tender touch as he brings one hand up to the side of my cheek. It's probably best that he steadies me because I barely have any control of my body. The kiss is slow and tender and his hand that held mine a few moments ago is now wrapped around my waist. The feeling of euphoria has overtaken me and although I'm in desperate need of air, I linger when he pulls away, because he too, is out of breath.

We stand there, his hands still in place as he gazes into my eyes and I've gotten lost in his beautiful irises. I can feel how flushed my face is and I'm certain my heart is beating so loudly, all of Panem could likely hear it. I force my eyes away and break his touch. _What just happened? Peeta just kissed me! And I kissed him back. _All of a sudden my mind is racing a million miles an hour and I can hardly breathe. I'm sure it's the combination of the kiss and my sudden terror. Before I know it, I've turned around and I'm sprinting into the direction of the woods. Peeta is calling after me but all I can hear is the muffled sounds as I try to keep my tears from blurring my path.

My feet carry me as fast as possible and I realize that I'm not as agile as I was before the war. My joints ache and my feet feel numb. My head is pounding and the tears are now flowing relentlessly. I'm gasping for relief. I know he won't follow me into my sacred woods and so I stop to sit against a large try, head in my hands and I cry. I just left one of my only friends standing dumbfounded after our kiss and here I am, too concerned with myself, running from my haunted past, yet again. Nothing is going right. I feel helpless. Nothing.

**A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger but I know I have a love and hate relationship with these kind of suspenseful endings to a chapter. Huge thanks as always to my wonderful beta, Meadowlark27! She's the one that makes sure all of my writing makes sense and flows. She's a big inspiration and I highly recommend her stories. Also, sorry for not updating on a regular schedule. School has me quite wrapped up seeing how I'm graduating on May 15! Then it's off to the real world and repaying college tuition. Anyway, I'm rambling, but thanks to every one of you who reads this story, reviews or gives it a favorite. I'm thoroughly pleased to know people enjoy what I write and I hope I don't disappoint as I'm still getting back into the swing of writing. If you have a suggestion for the story, feel free to shoot me a message or leave a review! I'll always consider some outside thoughts. :)**


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